


Spanking the Wank

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [37]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 36: Wanking. The boys try to avoid having sex, so John doesn’t hear, but they’re not as sneaky at it as they’d like to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanking the Wank

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

They do try to behave around their father, really, they do. It’s just that they’re young, and they’re horny. Each of them appreciated John’s willingness to accept the… extra… depth to their relationship. It doesn’t change the size of their libidos though, and to there’s a lot of sneaking around wanking off when they think no one is looking.

Winchesters are GOOD at “no one’s looking.” Nearly a century of experience between the three of them, of knowing how to do something when or where, or in a way that no one else will see it. All three of them know it, and are happy and content in that knowledge. Sam and Dean, being boys and having two decades less experience than their father, use the knowledge to assure themselves that it keeps them from being discovered while wanking off.

Except, they’re all Winchesters. With finely honed bullshit detectors, and intensely cultivated talents for finding something that someone else is trying to keep hidden or quiet.

Dean has discovered Sam wanking off in the closet. On the woodpile out back. Underneath the covers in bed. In the bathroom. Under the comforter on the couch. In the little clearing they rest in when they’re halfway through their runs. Behind the kitchen door. If you asked John where he’s found the boy wanking, he’d mention all of the above locations, and then go on to add the attic, the toolshed, the bed of John’s truck, in a rickety treestand – he had to stop himself from saying something, because he was afraid it wouldn’t hold Sam’s weight when the release came, but before he could screw up the courage to clear his throat, well, it happened, the treestand held, and John simply slipped away. Sam thinks he is better at Dean about figuring when someone is going to interrupt him. He’s not, really.

Dean’s just better – or he thinks he is – at finding somewhere that no one will walk in on him. Sam has discovered Dean wanking off in the Impala, on the Impala, under the Impala, and in the barn the Impala is kept in – not to mention the hayloft above the Impala, and sitting on top of the toolbox that holds the Impala’s tools. The fact that the barn is separate from the house makes Dean feel safe, though it shouldn’t, and sadly, it turns Sam on to see Dean wanking by the car. John damn well knows what the boy does around the car – hell, he did it himself when he was Dean’s age – so he avoids the Impala. It does not, however, preclude him discovering Dean wanking in the upstairs hallway, in the basement, out back of the woodshed, and under the front porch.

Neither boy has caught John wanking off, because John has the extra twenty years experience, not to mention time in military service, to know that wherever you do it, you’re gonna be found or heard, so you might as well keep it to where people expect it to happen, like in the shower, or in bed in the middle of the night so those places can be granted their proper privacy. John actually only opts for the bed when he’s sure the boys are sleeping, and when he has his own room with a door that closes.

He’s pleased that the boys are respecting his request that they keep the sex between the two of them extremely private. He expected nothing less. However, the kids are racking up a lot of hand time between them. When he discovers – well, discovery isn’t the right word, since as a Winchester, when he realizes what’s going on, he removes himself from the scene of the crime in order to avoid embarrassment – Sam wanking off for the third time in a day, and three minutes later stumbles on Dean doing it for the fourth, he realizes that he needs to take matters in hand. Wait, bad metaphor.

He’s pretty sure they’re still in their hidden spots pleasuring themselves, when he stands in the kitchen and yells. Hell, he needs some fun.

“BOYS! KITCHEN!” He listens with more than a little amusement at the sound of a startled thump from the pantry – jesus, Dean – and another from the attic, and a minute later both boys appear, flushed a little, though they’re both going to pass that off as being from hurrying.

“I need to know if you have anything you need – I’ve got to go into town.”

Sam immediately goes for a pen and paper, and Dean slouches up against the doorframe asking John about what he’s going for, to see if it matches. He takes Sam’s list from him when the kid finishes, adds his and Dean’s items, looks at it and sighs, hoping he’s not overdoing it.

“Shit, this is going to take forever.”

“Want a hand with the errands?”

“Not really. I told you boys I wanted you to stay out of town. I’ll be gone a few hours, I guess.” He shrugs on his jacket, grabs his keys. His boys are still standing in the kitchen, exchanging looks, while bantering about the cereal that’s on the list. Dean smacks Sam just as he goes out the door, and he pokes his head back in. “If this house is a mess from the two of you fighting when I get back, I’ll beat both of your asses.” The door slams behind him. He’ll take his time.

Sam hesitates. “He wants us to clean the house?”

Dean looks around. “Looks pretty clean to me.”

“Me too.” There’s silence, and then Sam looks at Dean with a shy grin. “You wanna?”

Dean’s answering smile is full of mischief, and he wraps his arms around the boy, backs him into the kitchen table, and lays him down on top of it, pressing in a long kiss.

“I wanna.”

“Here,” gasps Sam.

“Can’t wait – Dad interrupted when he yelled.”

Sam laughs, and Dean looks offended. He manages to still the chuckles long enough to fist his hands in Dean’s shirt, pull him in for a kiss. “He interrupted me, too.”

They’re both laughing, but it doesn’t last too long, because the sight of one another's skin, as they strip off their shirts, is just too much for their senses, and they fall back to consume one another.


End file.
